


the flameo’s guide to royal life

by pinkberrygeek



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Bending (Avatar TV), Drama & Romance, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Modern Royalty, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, POV First Person, POV Zuko, Piandao is Zuko's therapist, Self-Esteem Issues, Social Anxiety, Strangers to Lovers, Zuko (Avatar) is a Mess, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, basically Zuko's diary, character exploration, the princess diaries AU nobody asked for, writing experiment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27760903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkberrygeek/pseuds/pinkberrygeek
Summary: Zuko writes about his feelings and finds out he's not just an angsty, awkward teenager but also a ROYAL one.Or, a very self-indulgent Princess Diaries AU.
Relationships: Aang & Zuko (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Ozai & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar), Ursa & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: NOT BETA-READ! VERY SELF-INDULGENT! CLICHE, CRINGE INDUCING MOMENTS!  
>   
> Also, Zuko doesn't have his scar here! Just thought I'd clear that up now. Ozai is an asshole in this story, yes, but I wanted to explore the possibility of a non-fascist family of dysfunctional idiots TRYING to get along.  
>   
> This story was inspired by The Princess Diaries series written by Meg Cabot. Go read her books if you haven't! They're amazing.

**Monday, Homeroom, 7:50 AM**

Um. Hello. Zuko here. And, uh, I guess I’m giving this a shot.

Dr Piandao suggested keeping a journal, as a way of coping with my overthinking. Mom was ecstatic of course, when I told her I’d try. She dashed straight to the bookstore and got me… this.

It’s dark red, with a leather back and blank pages so I can draw where I want. Also, this is kind of thick? It’s heavy and not really convenient to be lugging around when my backpack is already bursting.

I’m still going to use this, though. It looks expensive, and I don’t want to waste her money.

Currently writing my first entry in homeroom because it’s a _huge_ waste of time.

I’m not sure why we even have this period, besides for attendance taking purposes and class announcements that nobody really cares about (the chore list, for example, is pointless since we have janitors. so why???).

Professor Roku is rambling on about his short vacation in Shu Jing, and how beautiful the scenery was. I’m struggling not to fall asleep, like that guy Haru who’s seated in the back.

He’s started snoring really loud.

Roku chucked an eraser at his head... the old man has surprisingly good aim.

**Monday, Lunch, 12:00 PM**

I’m having lunch alone right now, in the courtyard. Same shit, different day.  
The grass is wet from morning dew, and it feels disgusting through my jeans.

Aang has a different lunch period from me so, unfortunately, most of my meals in school are consumed just like this. I would honestly LOVE to be able to sit at an actual table to eat—but that would mean talking to strangers since there’s never a whole table free. (This school has a huge clique problem.)

‘MAKING FRIENDS’, as Aang would so eloquently put, is something I’ve never really figured out. I mean, I’m going to be sixteen this school year.

A high school junior and _mostly_ straight-A student (fuck Math) but I only have ONE proper friend.

Talking to people is hard. I always freeze up and end up saying stupid. Or worse, mean. I'm really bad at being nice. Just thought you should know that. 

I should be thankful, really. Aang is great, and we’ve been all childhood buddy-buddy since I moved here. Even _if_ he's two years younger than me, he's actually pretty mature for his age. Also, he’s SMART. He managed to skip a grade and is one of the youngest kids in his batch. (There’s a couple of them, actually, though I don’t know any of them by name). 

Oh, and he’s a vegetarian.

In spite of his best efforts, I’ve never REALLY been able to give up eating meat. I did try once when I was fourteen. But I ended up getting really sick and felt weak all the time. Aang felt really bad about that. So we compromised. On movie nights, we order vegetarian takeaway for both of us. On game nights, Meat Lover’s pizza for me and vegetable stir-fry for him. He doesn't mind as long as I chew away from his face. 

Damn. Thinking of Meat Lover’s pizza right now reminds me how much cafeteria meals suck. This sandwich tastes like dirt. For a private school, Royal Republic High sure serves awful food.

**Later, My Room, 8:00 PM**

Mom got home earlier than normal this evening. She’s usually home around eight-thirty or nine, always staying late to run through lines or roughing it through last-minute rehearsals.

Oh, yeah. I should probably explain; she’s an actress. A thespian, actually, the kind in plays and the occasional musical, not films. And that’s honestly way harder because you don’t get to cut away bad takes. Everything has to run smoothly on the night of the performance. And if mistakes _are_ made, you just had to improvise in order to keep the show going. Kind of like life, now that I think about it. 

I used to love watching her perform, but I haven’t really had the time or energy to go recently. 

She works for a small company called The Basilisk Theatre that caters to a more niche, cultivated audience, rather than the general masses. Unlike the Ember Island Players. Spirits, they're AWFUL. I was forced to watch one of their performances once when I was a child. They BUTCHERED _Love amongst the Dragons_ every year.

I still love watching plays, though. And her workplace is located near this block of two-storey shophouses filled with art shops and amazing street food. There's a weekly bazaar where artisans from all over the world put their prized goods out for sale. I love it there. There's always something new to discover. And even if it’s crowded, people are always nice about it when you accidentally bump into them. 

We had spicy noodles from Gonpachi tonight, a small restaurant just ten minutes down the street. My favourite. It easily makes up for the shitty lunch I had in school today.

As usual, dinner's eaten in the living room, with the TV turned on to watch the evening news. We hardly ever eat at the dining table. It seats up to six people, but there’s only two of us so it feels excessive. Druk counts as a member of our little family too, but he prefers to eat alone in his own private corner. I've tried making him eat by the table once and he'd nearly scratched my arms off. 

“How was school today, honey?” Mom asks, after giving me a loud and obnoxious kiss on the cheek. I don't complain. I will never tire of her affections, even if she gets embarrassing sometimes in public. 

“Normal,” I give her a tired smile. “Math is hard.”

She laughs. “It sure is, sweetheart.”

Then the news anchor started saying something about the State of Caldera. Mom quickly snatched the remote to change channels. I appreciated that. Neither of us wanted to know anything about that place. 

A quick rundown of why Caldera sucks:

  1. Caldera’s our hometown but I was never happy there
  2. Ozai
  3. ~~Azula~~



Well, it's mostly because of Ozai. (He’s my father, but I hate acknowledging this fact.)

We lived there until I turned five, and Mom got divorced. Their marriage wasn't a happy one, from what I recall. I walked in once on them arguing. Mom was curled up in the corner of the huge bedroom, sobbing. I tried to go over and comfort her but Ozai forced me out. I didn't dare to disobey. I was afraid of him. I think I still might be slightly afraid now. 

But anyway, I haven’t seen Ozai in a long time and I don't expect to ever again.

I'm not sure whether I'd mind seeing Azula again. She’s my younger sister, who’d been a toddler when I left. I know Mom misses her, but I can't say I feel the same exactly. She’d been terrifying, for a three-year-old.

But I still wonder what she’s like now, sometimes.

I suppose it's a good thing she’s out of my hair for good. She was Ozai's favourite, so she was definitely better off staying with him. It's not like she'd be left wanting, because Ozai's side of the family is rich.

And as for me, I’m much happier now, living with Mom.  
We don’t have to feel afraid here. 

It’s nice.

**Later, My Room, 11:45 PM**

I woke up to the sound of Mom crying. And yelling.

She seems to be arguing with someone on the phone. The walls are thin in our apartment so I can hear what she’s saying if I focus really hard. 

I’m not sure if I should go see what’s wrong? Piandao told me that sometimes, mothers needed their own space as well.

He counsels both of us, you see. So I’m sure he meant that Mom needs her alone time to cry things out just like I need mine when I get angry.

I’ll stay awake till she hangs up, just to make sure she goes back to sleep.

Okay. It sounds like she’s done talking to whatever jackass was on the line. She was saying something along the lines of ‘you’re not giving me a choice’ and ‘you can’t do this’, so it must have been really serious. 

Hopefully, it isn’t her boss. Noren seemed like a cool guy, and I liked him enough the first time we met. I don't think it's him though. She's always happy when she talks about him. I don't think he'd make her feel like this. 

Ugh. Thinking about who it could be, just makes me frustrated. 

I’m going to try and sleep now. Try and ask her tomorrow.

~~Goodnight. Wait, who am I even talking to~~

**Tuesday, Homeroom, 7:40 AM**

I didn’t get a chance to talk to Mom this morning—she left around six, hurrying out the door with a hasty goodbye. Maybe something urgent came up at work.

But even though she’s rushing, she still makes breakfast for me, like she always does. Today, it’s bacon and eggs, and one Eggo waffle drizzled lightly with honey. It tastes delicious.

I’ll try to call her during lunch, I guess. We’re allowed to bring phones to school, but I’ll have to be careful since we’re only supposed to use them before and after school. Not that that rule stops the more daring kids from texting under the tables at class. I suppose I would too, but it's not like I have people to text aside from Aang. 

Oh, great. Professor Roku just gave me a look because I'm not paying attention to _homeroom_.

I’m going to put this away now because even though this class is still a huge waste of time (likely a buffer to make sure we don’t miss any of the REAL lessons), I don’t want another detention.

**Tuesday, Biology, 11:40 AM**

We had to work in pairs for today’s workshop. 

And OF COURSE, I had the luck of being paired up with Sokka, this annoying kid from the soccer team who’s _always_ complaining about something. He tried to pick a fight with me in Phys Ed during freshmen year when we were learning self-defence.

I’m proud to say that I thoroughly trounced his ass.

He hasn’t bothered me since, except to give me weird looks when he thinks I'm not paying attention. 

Today, he’s mad about something his sister did. Kanaya, I think? She’s an overachieving freshman, sure to be top of her class, and also an enthusiastic new member of the homecoming committee.

(Not that Sokka’s told me any of this directly, of course. We’ve completed our lab work and he’s talking across the room to Suki, one of the popular girls who’s also the captain of the women’s volleyball team.)

It sucks how I’ve nothing better to do than to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations.

Might as well do something productive here while we wait for Professor Long Feng to dismiss us for lunch. The bastard likes to keep us till the bell rings, even if there's nothing left to do. 

Reminders  
  


  1. Cat food for Druk (salmon ONLY)
  2. Check mailbox
  3. Call Mom
  4. Water the plants (balcony)
  5. Refill shampoo bottle
  6. Trim my hair? It’s getting kind of long



**Later, Lunch, 12:20 PM**

Just got off the phone with Mom.

I was right to be worried. 

My fingers are shaking so bad and it’s hard to write this neatly, but I’ll try.

~~My father~~

Ozai is in town.  
And he wants to see me. 

I’m… not sure how to feel about this.

Terrified? Disgusted? ANGRY?

What the hell is he doing here, in Republic City? What could he possibly want from us now, after all this time?

**Tuesday, My Room, 7:00 PM**

I can’t believe this. Mom’s forcing me to go see him. I’m doing my best not to wring my hands (my skin always gets red and irritated when I do), so I’m keeping them busy by writing this down instead. 

I’ve already tried protesting multiple times. She refused to budge, saying that it was really important and something that had been put off ‘long enough’. What the hell does THAT mean? I’m not sure I want to find out. 

At least she doesn’t look any happier about this than I do.

“Your father has asked for you, not me,” she sighs when I ask why she can’t come with me. Mom looked almost... afraid. “He wants to talk to you. Alone.”

I wish I knew what to say to that. I don't. 

I could (kind of) understand him wanting to see Mom again. Maybe they would talk about alimony. I know he’s been sending her money every month for my tuition because RRH is a private school but Mom insisted on me going there because their curriculum is nothing to sneeze at. It is honestly, is the least Ozai could do, after what he did to us.

But wanting to see me? Just to TALK?

He has a motive for doing this. Definitely. Men like Ozai didn't just up and decide to spontaneously contact long-lost relatives for tearful reunions. 

“He hates me,” I remind her, in case she’d somehow forgotten. “Did he at least tell you what this is about?”

“You’ll find out tomorrow, sweetheart,” she goes, all dark and mysterious like she’s playing a role or something. “And he doesn’t hate you, Zuko. He’s your _father_.”

HA! He must have really gotten to her that night, for her to say something THAT crazy. I knew I should have gone to check on her. Maybe she would’ve hung up, blocked his number, and he would’ve given up and left us alone. 

Mom left the apartment to go do something. She didn't tell me what it was. She just said it was an urgent errand. So I'm cuddling with Druk now, on my bed. Listening to some indie rock. Trying to get my stupid emotions under control. 

I hope she at least remembers to eat dinner.

**Later, My Room, 9:00 PM**

It’s been two hours and spirits, I’m still a complete wreck. I don’t think I’ll be able to get any sleep tonight.

Maybe I’ll go buy a new bag of cat treats for Druk at Pawsy’s Pet Emporium. They usually open till midnight, so if I go now, I'll be able to make it.

Mom says I spoil Druk too much, but I don’t really care.

If _I_ can't live a self-actualized, happy life, then at least my cat can. 

**Later, My Room, 11:55 PM**

I’m tempted to call Aang and tell him about what happened.

He knows about the whole situation with ~~my father~~ Ozai, not only because we’ve been friends for nearly a decade now, but also because Gyatso’s been close friends with my Mom since we first moved here, both of them being new members of our kindergarten school’s PTA. 

Gyatso isn’t actually Aang’s real father, by the way. Aang was adopted. Moved around a lot in the system, before Gyatso found him.

So, yeah. Aang hasn’t had an easy childhood either. If anyone could sympathise with my plight right now, it might be him.

**~~Tuesday~~ ** **Wednesday, My Room, 12:23 AM**

So I fiddled with my phone for a bit and nearly pressed the call button, before checking the time. It's late. Aang's probably asleep by now. I don't want to wake him.

Also, the thought of telling him and hearing him work himself into a state on my account just makes me feel worse. I don’t want to make him worry when I don’t have any answers myself. What would I even say?

I’ll just tell him after I’ve met Ozai. See what he wants. Maybe he's going to officially disown me. Sign some papers, get it done and over with. A boy could dream. 

**Wednesday, Living Room, 6:50 AM**

I barely slept a wink last night. Fell asleep around five. And I rolled around so much Druk got annoyed and went to sleep in his own bed, which he rarely does. (He curls up next to me. I was kind of hurt.)

The knowledge that I’m about to face my father this afternoon makes me want to hurl. I’d better skip breakfast. Don’t want to risk barfing on myself. It seems like a very _me_ thing to do. 

Just checked my phone and saw Mom’s text:

_Wear something presentable. You know how your Father is about clothing._

Obviously, now I’m obliged to wear the shittiest clothes I own, just to spite him. 

At least I have control over that.

**Wednesday, Lunch, 12:20 PM**

I didn’t bother getting lunch today, cause I still have no appetite. 

I ran into Aang after Trig. He was with a few of his classmates. The scary blind girl who swears a lot, and the smiley kid in the wheelchair (I don’t know either of their names).

“Hey, Zuko! You look kind of awful, is everything okay,” he blurts out right in the middle of the goddamned hallway. It doesn’t help that one of his companions, the girl, laughs derisively in my face. 

”Uh, yeah, everything’s fine,” I lie.

The girl beside him frowns when I say this. I still don’t know why? Maybe she hated me or something. Maybe she wants me to NOT be fine. 

“Well, do you wanna meet up after school? Appa misses you,” Aang offers, giving me a quick hug and a squeeze. He starts hacking violently when one of my long hairs get caught in his mouth.

I really need a haircut. I’ll probably do it myself when I’m home tonight because I usually hate going to the hairdressers. They always cut my hair too short. 

“Sorry, Aang. I can’t,” I tell him, and since I don’t want to make him worry, I throw in another white lie. “I’m meeting Piandao after school. For training.”

“Don’t you usually see him on Fridays?” Aang asks. We only talk about this openly in public under the guise that Piandao’s teaching me martial arts or something like that. Just as a buffer, to ward off unnecessary gossip.

“There was a change in schedule,” I lie again. “Rain check?”

“Sure thing, _flameo_ ,” he grins, giving me a thumbs-up. I resist the urge to roll my eyes, because UGH. Would he _ever_ stop calling me that? It’s his way of showing appreciation for old movies, I get it, but that damned word is a slang native to Caldera from TWENTY YEARS AGO. I want to scream. 

Normally I’d complain about the use of that stupid nickname. But today, I wave him off. I'm not in the mood to engage. I think I hear the girl angrily saying something to him, and Aang calling after me, but since I needed to be alone, I pretended not to hear.

So now I’m sitting in my usual spot on the yard and writing in this thick book.

I don’t want to see Ozai again. Please, please let the meeting be cancelled. Last-minute emergencies, important business meetings, WHATEVER.

Anything, as long as I don't have to see him. 

TIME CHECK: 2 hours and 40 mins to go.

**Wednesday, Administration, 2:00 PM**

I just got called to the front desk in the most HUMILIATING way.

Principal Kyoshi herself arrived smack-dab in the middle of World History.

“Mr Sozin. Please, come with me. Your mother is here to collect you,” she phrases in a way that makes me feel like I've done something bad. Like getting called away by the principal in front of EVERYONE isn't bad enough. Does the woman not have a single tactful bone in her body? 

(I tried to hide behind my textbook but obviously, it didn't work.)

The class makes ‘OOOOH’ noises because this is hilarious to THEM. After all, they're not the ones who have to leave school early and meet estranged fathers who'd been verbally abusive since the moment you were born.

What’s worse, I noticed Sokka giving me a concerned look from behind the safety of his desk. He wasn't laughing. It was then that I remembered that Aang and Sokka know each other.

Fuck. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that Sokka doesn't do something extra and tell Aang about me getting called out early. Then he'd know I was lying about meeting Piandao because my appointments with him never clash with school hours.

I don't need any more stress in my life right now.

Maybe I should have just gone to the nurse’s office before lunch and lied about feeling unwell? Ming would have definitely excused me from class. I look sickly enough, that's for damn sure. 

Oh well. It’s too late now. 

TIME CHECK: 1 HOUR LEFT

**Wednesday, Grand Beifong Hotel, 2:50 PM**

So I DID try to escape, only to have my plans foiled by Mom. If she hadn’t caught me trying to sneak out via the back gate, I’d be home free right now. The moment I'd stepped out, she was standing there next to her car, arms crossed. It’s creepy how she can predict my movements like that.

It takes A LOT of yelling and some crocodile tears on Mom's part to get me crawling into the back of her Hyundai. I'd forgotten she was an actress, like an idiot, and able to cry on command. She stopped tearing the moment I sat my ass in the car and locked the doors, so I couldn't get out. 

Then she dropped me off at this place about twenty minutes ago, and I’ve been patiently waiting since. 

It's not like I can run now. This hotel is accessible only by car. There aren’t any buses. It's on the top of a steep hill, and trying to walk back to civilisation would probably end with me getting lost and mauled by a platypus bear. I’m tempted to try. But I won’t, because they’d just rearrange another meeting again and I’d be back to square one. 

Also, the doorman didn't let me in at first, but after I told him I was here to see ~~father~~ Ozai, he did. I guess he is as rich and powerful as ever if the staff here knows him by name. But it doesn't help my case any, because the concierge has been throwing me dirty looks ever since I walked through the door. 

Maybe he was afraid I was going to try and steal something? But it's probably because he doesn't like what I've got on. There's definitely a dress code for a place THIS fancy.

Mom had rolled her eyes at my outfit of choice. Ripped jeans, an old Band T-Shirt with swear words on it, and work boots. I kind of regret sitting on the yard today during lunch, though. My ass is still damp from the grass. 

The concierge obviously notices. He suddenly places a box of tissues on the counter like he's expecting me to go over and clean the dirt off myself.

You know what?  
Fuck it.

I think I’ll put my feet on the expensive-looking coffee table, just to piss him off.

Oh, yeah.

He’s _definitely_ glaring at me now.

**Wednesday, Grand Beifong Hotel, 3:05 PM**

He’s late. 

Ozai is NEVER late. 

The concierge had walked over to me the moment it turned three and offered to guide me to where I am now. He had a fake smile readily plastered across his face so I guess he already knew who I was. And who's expecting me. Probably why he didn't kick me out. Small win, I guess.

I’m seated in an enormous, private booth near the windows. You can see the city from here. It’s a really nice view. There are also giant mirrors everywhere, making the room look even bigger than it already is. Fresh fire-lilies are arranged carefully in large, expensive vases by the sofas. The scent of them soothes my nerves a little, though I can’t explain why. 

I wonder how much high tea here costs? They’ve got like three chandeliers in this one dining area. The interior is all pistachio onyx marble, and there’s jazz playing in the background. And not from a recording either. There’s an actual BAND near the bar, and honestly, I would be super stoked to appreciate their performance if it weren’t for the fact that I’m trying not to throw up.

At least he chose a public place. So if he tries to murder me or something, there’ll be witnesses.

Oh, no. I think I see him.

**Later, Grand Beifong Hotel, Men’s Washroom**

Well. That was… _something_.

“Zuko, it’s good to see you again,” DEFINITELY hadn’t been what I expected him to say.

What in Agni's name is going on? He didn’t comment on my clothes or my hair either like I was expecting him to. Just looked me in the eye, nodded, and sat down. 

A waiter came to serve us immediately, and Ozai ordered on my behalf. He asked for a pot of jasmine tea for me (my favourite kind).

I’m not sure if he actually remembered, or if it was just a lucky guess. Hopefully, it’s the latter. The thought of him being anything but a negligent asshat is too much for my brain to process.

But anyway.

We spent a sizeable chunk of time just staring at each other. No talking. Just, blank looks and awkward silence.

He hasn’t changed a bit, by the way.

Still dressed in an expensive designer suit (Armani today, I think?), long dark hair tied back in a low ponytail and that STUPID goatee on his chin. He thinks it makes him look regal and… yeah, okay.

It kind of does, as much as I hate to admit it.

I wonder if I’ll be able to grow something of my own soon? (On second thought, nah. Ozai has ruined all facial hair for me. With my luck, I'd end up looking like HIM.)

“You look… taller,” he had said next, looking pained. I tried so hard not to laugh. Or scream. The tension was so thick, I could barely breathe.

So, to avoid any potential anxiety attacks, I immediately asked to be excused. He had raised an eyebrow, obviously disapproving at my attempt to flee but let me go anyway. 

I'm sitting on one of the fancy automatic toilets as I write this. It’s actually kind of nice here. Amazingly clean, and it somehow smells like roses. There’s even a tray of complimentary hand lotion, packets of cologne samples and face wash by each basin.

I’m super tempted to just hide here for the rest of the afternoon. Maybe he’ll give up and decide to leave?

No, scratch that. He’d just send someone in here to drag me out, or actually try to talk to me in HERE… and Agni knows an awkward conversation in the TOILET is the last thing either of us wants. 

I’ll take another five minutes to calm down before facing the music. Doodling a four-leaf clover on this page for luck.

**Later, Republic City Park, ??? (sunset)**

I’m okay. I’m gonna be okay.   
I’ll be okay.

Doodling a picture of Druk here to calm down. I just need to remember what Piandao taught me:

  1. breathe deep breaths
  2. think relaxing thoughts
  3. get everything out on paper
  4. everything has a solution
  5. things would be okay in time



Oh, who am I kidding??????

EVERYTHING IS _NOT_ OKAY.  
IT WILL PROBABLY NEVER BE OKAY, EVER AGAIN. 

I’M THREE SECONDS FROM THROWING MYSELF INTO THE POND TO DROWN but I probably shouldn’t because I might end up injuring one of the turtleducks. And they probably wouldn’t like a dead human floating around in the middle of their home.

I like turtleducks a lot. They’re cute.

One of the chicks is waddling up to the shore right now, curiously eyeing my shoelaces. I’m sticking my foot out and, oh! The little guy likes it...

Ugh. Not even this adorable sight is enough to distract me from what (the fuck) just happened.

I’m shaking so bad now my words are going wonky and slanted. My legs are also burning from the insane walk back to town. It's taken me till sundown to reach the park. 

There are tons of people jogging and walking past me, no doubt side-eying the weirdo in muddy clothes sitting by the pond and letting himself get nibbled on by turtleducklings. 

~~I hate my life.~~

**Much Later, Republic City Park, 9:30 PM**

I’ve calmed down, somewhat.

(Breathing normally again at least.)

I might as well get this out now before I inevitably start spiralling again.

And get yelled at when I get home. I turned my phone off again after checking the time. There were already tons of missed calls. They’re probably hunting me down right now, Mom probably out of her mind with worry.

But I still DON’T feel like calling her, even if it makes me a rotten son. I just… can’t help but feel betrayed. For real this time. 

Nowhere is safe.

How could she KNOW and not tell me? I can’t believe this.

I mean, she definitely knew, marrying Ozai and all. She’d been a fully cognizant adult, unlike me, who’d been small, stupid and helpless. But did she know this was how it was going to play out eventually? I can’t help but feel like this whole thing was planned, and that she had a hand in this.

Because if she did, I might never trust anyone EVER again.

So here’s what happened: 

I went back to the table, after washing my face and hands at least three times to stall. The place had gotten pretty packed by then. Apparently high tea at the Grand Beifong Hotel is a popular attraction amongst tourists.

There was an obviously Earth Kingdom family occupying the booth behind us. I know because they were all dressed in matching shades of dark green. Nationalists. That’s how you tell they’re from out of town. 

Anyway.

Ozai nods at me when I sit down and pointedly looks at the cup of tea waiting, piping hot and steaming, like it’d been freshly poured.

So I took a big sip. And regretted it immediately.

My tongue is still hurting right now, obviously because I drank too much too fast and burned myself like a fucking idiot. I started choking, right there at the table. Good thing I put the cup down before I did something even more stupid, like spill it on myself. 

“How have you been, Zuko?” Ozai asks, ignoring my faux pas, folding his hands neatly on the table. The surface of his shiny watch catches the sunlight and it reflects painfully at my eyes.

“I hope life in Republic City has been kind to you.” 

“Uh, yeah,” I was still trying to stop coughing. Some of the tea had gotten into my windpipes, so it was hard. “It’s been great.” 

“Good, good,” he says again, offering me a napkin (which I respectfully decline). “That’s good to know.”

Instead, I choose to wipe my mouth on the back of my hand. Ozai purses his lips in silent disapproval. Ah, all those etiquette lessons, flushed straight down the toilet. I'd always been terrible with table manners. Even baby Azula had more decorum than me.

“So, how have you been?” I force myself to ask.

“Oh, I’ve been well. Very much so. Things back at home have been excellent—aside from a few small mishaps. In fact, that’s… part of the reason why I asked to see you today.” 

“Really?” I frown a little. Was he going to start bragging about a new business venture or something? Or even worse—tell me how much Azula had accomplished without me there to mess things up? 

“Yes. Really,” he takes a careful sip of his own tea (without choking, unfortunately). He even does that stupid pinkie thing. I try my hardest not to roll my eyes, and instead lock my gaze onto the back of a stranger’s balding head.

Because _of course_. Everything my father did, he had to do to perfection, even in front of family.

Well, I guess we could hardly be considered that. Anymore.

“So, uh, what’s up?” I ask because the curiosity was killing me by then, and I honestly, just wanted to get this done and over with. I hadn’t eaten or slept since yesterday. Practically running on empty.

Ozai just… sighs when I ask. It’s a very familiar sound.

(I remember him sighing constantly at me throughout my childhood. Every time I fucked up, he’d look up towards the ceiling and make this weird strangled noise at the back of his throat. And then he'd exhale. Slowly.)

“Alright then, Zuko. Since you’re obviously less than keen to get reacquainted,” which, DUH, no shit. “I’ll get straight to the point.” 

It took ALL the willpower I had not to snap ‘ _well thank fuck for that’_ because he’d probably deck me or something. I remember seeing him do it to Cousin Lu Ten for saying the b-word, one time at the dinner table. Uncle Iroh had been PISSED. 

I stuff my mouth with a small almond cookie to prevent any unnecessary outbursts.

Big mistake.

“Your Grandfather, Azulon, has recently passed away.”

The abrupt news makes me choke AGAIN, this time spraying crumbs all over the fancy tablecloth and polished silverware.

Ozai visibly cringes, giving me a disgusted look like I was some kind of plebeian he’d picked off the street. I felt my face burning with embarrassment as I forced down another mouthful of piping hot tea, to wash down the dryness in my throat. 

“He _what?”_ I croaked.

There’s not much I remember about Grandfather, but the few memories I have of him are bland and uneventful. I only ever saw him at the dinner table. He never spoke to Azula and me much.

Only to Uncle Iroh, and Ozai.

“I’m… sorry for your loss?” I try helplessly because what the HELL was I supposed to say to that?

“Thank you,” Ozai nods. “He was deeply loved by the people, and his presence will be sorely missed.”

“Um, okay?” Weird. Grandfather didn’t seem like the type of man to have a lot of friends. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile. “So, is that it? Do I have to attend his funeral? Is that why you’re here?” 

“Well, not exactly. There was a wake held in his honour of course, but that was almost a month ago. I’m actually here to tell you about what happens next.” 

“Yeah, okay, sure,” I’m dusting the crumbs off my faded band tee and trying to tune out the snickering from the table behind us. Ugh. Dumb tourists. “Shoot.” 

There’s a minuscule pause as Ozai thinks about how to phrase his words.

“As I’m sure you remember, our homeland is a small, but wealthy principality in the west. An independent state, governed by a monarchy.” 

I nod, not sure where he was going with this. Of course, I knew. I’d tried to learn as much as I could when I was a kid, in an effort to please him. Our family had always been patriotic.

But there’s no way I could’ve been prepared for what he says next.

“Your grandfather was the ruler of Caldera, Zuko. He was the King. The seventh King of Caldera, in fact. The first King to rule, was Sozin, hence the family name.” 

“Huh?” I blink stupidly. 

Ozai creases his brow, obviously trying to be patient. 

“Your grandfather was royalty. _I’m_ royalty.” 

“And…?” 

I’m still not following. 

“ _And_ ,” he talks patronisingly slowly like Professor Jee does in Trig when he’s trying to explain something to me. “Since your Uncle has chosen to abdicate, I was crowned the new reigning monarch. I’m the eighth King to rule Caldera.” 

I snort, surprising even myself at my failure to contain my amusement.

Traitorous laughter bubbles up from inside of me, along with _years_ of repressed emotion. If anyone were to declare themselves the king of something with such unabashed confidence, it would be ~~my father~~ Ozai. 

_Who did he think he was kidding?_

“Congratulations?” I say shakily, tingly with disbelief. Because _what?_ “I’m uh, happy for you.”

I giggle again, wondering if my father’s finally lost his marbles. Or maybe it was me going crazy. Was I hallucinating? Or was this all some kind of weird, stress-induced dream? There was no way this was real. He had to be pulling my leg.

“Zuko,” Ozai sighs, hands reaching up to rub his temples. Another familiar thing he used to do in my presence. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation.” 

“No, no, I get it,” I snort. “You’re the king. _Whoop-dee-doo_ for you. Can I go now?” Clearly, this conversation was going nowhere. I wasn’t about to sit around and let him waste my time with this bullshit.

I had better things to do. A fat stack of math problems due tomorrow morning, for example. 

“No,” he says coldly. “You’re not going anywhere. Sit _down_ and listen to me.” 

I freeze, not daring to breathe. Even my heart might’ve stopped beating. His voice just… _did_ something to me, and my body obeyed despite my brain screaming at me to run. 

“Fine,” I grit my teeth and plop my ass back onto the comfy leather. 

Ozai frowns, observing me closely. He finally continues when he’s sure I’m not about to bolt. 

“I’m the new King of Caldera. Which makes you, according to the laws of our country, the next heir to the throne.” 

And my mind just... BLANKS. 

“The heir to _what?”_

“My _throne_ , Zuko,” he raises his voice slightly like I asked that because I didn’t hear him the first time. “You’re the new crown prince of Caldera. Descendent of Sozin, the grandson of King Azulon, and now… my _rightful_ heir.” 

I’m ashamed to say I responded in the way I always do when faced with something ridiculous and beyond comprehension. Like the time Aang told me he’d gotten arrested before.

“Shut. _Up.”_

Ozai’s voice goes dangerously soft. 

“ _Excuse_ me?” He starts. “Is that any way to speak to your _father?"_

“No, I mean,” I fumble, choosing to stare at my tattered boots, not daring to meet his eyes. “It’s slang here. A way of expressing shock. Disbelief. I… I meant no disrespect.” 

~~My father~~ Ozai begrudgingly accepts my explanation, his eyes still narrowed as he scrutinises me. He’s not even bothering to hide his disgust now, regarding me like a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

It takes another moment for me to fully understand what his words mean.

And when they finally sink in, the way I react is anything _but_ pretty. 

“I’M A PRINCE?” I, predictably, bellow at MAXIMUM volume, earning startled looks from every other person in the nearby vicinity, guests and staff alike. A spoon drops somewhere in the distance, the band stops playing, and I can hear someone breathing really loudly—oh wait. That’s me. 

I spot my reflection in one of the giant mirrors on the walls. My long, slightly greasy hair (I’d forgotten to wash it yesterday) is a mess, my fringe way too long and the rest pulled back into a messy ponytail. My clothes are wrinkled, loose and sagging on my body. There was even a messy leftover tea stain on my sleeve, and my normally ashen complexion is red like a boiled lobster-crab.

All I could think was. THIS?

THIS was the face of a prince???

And Ozai’s STILL not answering me.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN I’M A _PRINCE_?” I demand to know. “Are you fucking crazy?! Is this some kind of messed up prank Azula put you up to?”

He reacts this time. 

“Zuko! Quiet _down!”_ He hisses, seizing my arm. It was only then that I realised I’d leapt to my feet again.

But this time, I refuse to sit.

“You finally talk to me after all these years, and _this_ is what you have to say?” My face is hot with anger and disbelief. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“You think I would joke about something like this?!” Ozai snaps, reaching for his _very_ expensive smartphone and typing furiously. He flips it around, showing me the screen.

It’s an article by the famously credible _Republic City Gazette_ , with a picture of my father at the top of the page.

The headline ‘NEWLY CROWNED KING OF CALDERA, HIS ROYAL MAJESTY OZAI SOZIN’ is splashed across the top. 

I start hyperventilating. 

Because.

Holy shit. 

“Does Mom know?” I ask hoarsely. My mouth is suddenly very, very dry. I clutch at my chest, reminding myself to inhale. Oxygen is good. Panic bad.

“Of _course_ she knew. She was offered a lifetime of luxury and prestige by my side, but I suppose even that wasn’t good enough for her,” Ozai says almost dismissively. 

He reaches out to touch me, but I slap his hand away.

“You _know_ that’s not what Mom's like,” I say, in her defence. “And she hates stuff like that. All she ever wanted to do was act.” 

“Yes, she did, didn’t she? And that’s why she made the selfish decision to uproot you and bring you _here_ , throwing away your future and making you live like… like some kind of… delinquent.” I knew he wanted to say ‘peasant’. (Not that delinquent was any better.)

It makes me furious, the way he’s talking about the good people who live here. 

“Republic City is an amazing place. I like it,” I say, my voice shaking with anger. And also because I’m slightly out of breath. “Oh, whatever. Forget it! I can’t believe this! I can’t believe you’re waltzing back into my life just to spring this on me. Can’t you make Azula heir? She’s alive and kicking isn’t she?”

He nods at my question, standing up when I experience a full-body tremor, still struggling to breathe.

Of course she was.

(Azula was born lucky. And I was lucky to be born.)

Ozai (surprisingly) waits for me to stop shaking before continuing to speak. He probably doesn’t want me to die in public. It would be a bad look for him. His hand comes to close around my shoulder. I’m too tired to push it off, so I leave it be.

“Unfortunately, any royal below the age of twenty cannot legally abdicate their claim to the throne. It was a law passed to prevent… unsavoury circumstances.” 

“Like what,” I scoff. “Blackmail? _Coercion?_ Guess I should be thankful. Who knows what you’d do to me otherwise.” 

Ozai visibly flinches and drops his hold on my person. His long fingers bump against the silver cutlery with uncharacteristic clumsiness. 

“Zuko,” he says firmly. His voice is hard like steel despite being at whisper-volume. “You’re not thinking rationally. Obviously, you’re shocked and very upset, and I understand that. But this is a _huge_ opportunity for you to finally reclaim your birthright—” 

“Opportunity?! What about this situation makes you think I would want this?” My hands are clenched so tightly I’m surprised my palms don’t start to bleed. “An _opportunity_ for me to keep the position warm just so Azula can have it by the time I’m old enough to abdicate?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Zuko. Nobody can _force_ you to relinquish your title. Not even me. And for everyone’s sake, CONTROL yourself,” he gestures for his guards (the ROYAL guard?) to come over, shielding us from the public. About damn time, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if this mess ended up viral by tomorrow. ‘TEENAGED WEIRDO GOES HYSTERICAL, SPRAYS CRUMBS AT KING’S FACE’.

“There’s absolutely no reason for you to be upset. Even _if_ you abdicated as an adult, you’d still retain all the privileges of being royalty. People would kill for this kind of social standing.” 

“If you think any of that matters to me, you’re dead wrong. That’s not what I want. _You_ have nothing I want,” I exhale shakily. “Not anymore.”

My emotions were spiralling out of control. Long-repressed feelings of anger and betrayal rising to the surface like pond-scum.

All because of this man, who’d left such a huge shadow on my life. 

And then it happened.

The word-vomit.

“I was just a boy when I realised I would never earn the _right_ to my father’s love. My _father_ , who neglected me and told me I was a failure. I haven’t heard from you since I was _five_. Not a single phone call, or letter. And now, after agreeing to see you again after all this time— _this_ is all you have to offer?” 

Ozai’s expression morphs into one I’m not familiar with. It looked almost… remorseful.

It’s only for a second though, before his poker-face is back on.

The one that means business. 

“ _Prince_ Zuko,” his fingers twitch ominously. “Sit down, and let’s talk about this.” 

“I refuse.”

I scoop up my bag, clumsily knocking against the edge of the table as I wriggle out of the booth. He rises, looking like he’s about to try and _physically_ stop me. 

The rush of adrenaline I get from that makes me say something I’ll always be proud of. FINALLY reigning in whatever dignity I have left, after this nightmarish encounter, I bid him farewell.

“Goodbye, Ozai. I never want to see you again. Looks like you’ll just have to make do without a proper heir.” 

I turn and leave, head held high. Easily slipping through the pair of sharpy-dressed bodyguards, who half-heartedly attempt to block my path. Probably not wanting to make a scene (well, an even bigger one than there already was). 

Then I ran as far as I could without stopping and ended up in the park. I used to come here with Mom when we first moved here. This was a safe place. 

So yeah. 

Here I am, still seated on the muddy banks of the pond and scribbling furiously in my journal. The streetlamps are thankfully bright enough for me to write.

There’s also going to be pond water on these pages because one of the turtleducks has taken to nestling comfortably by my left hand. I don't mind at all.

Huh.

After writing about what happened, my shoulders feels oddly light.

Looking back at the pages I wrote; I can’t help but think they’re a piece of history now. One day, maybe years in the future, I’ll look back on these pages and today won’t even matter. 

Dr Piandao was right.

Journal keeping _does_ work. Even if my hand is starting to hurt from writing so much.

Good thing I’m ambidextrous.

Though I’m not gonna switch hands now, because of this little guy still beside me. (I wish I could bring him home, but Druk would probably eat him alive. And I wouldn’t want to separate him from his family.) 

It’s been a tiring day, and I’ll probably have to go home soon. I don’t have enough money for a cab, and the last bus leaves in a couple of hours.

I know there’s still a lot that needs to be said, especially between Mom and me. She has a lot of explaining to do. That’s a conversation best left for tomorrow, after today’s events.

There’s one thing I’m absolutely sure of, though.

I’m never going to see my piece of shit father again. 

If he tries to catch me, I’ll _run_.

I can book it pretty fast when I want to.

**Later, the bus home, ??? (it’s late and I’m scared to check the time)**

I’m spiralling again.

Because. ME?  
A PRINCE???

THE PRINCE OF WHAT? BAD HAIR AND TURTLEDUCKS?????

I’m BARELY keeping my life together as it is, and I’m still in _high school_.

Agni knows what a fully grown Zuko would be like.

God, I hope this doesn’t backfire.

Spirits, please, do me a solid and make Ozai leave me alone? 

**Thursday, My Room, 1:03 AM**

Mom screamed her head off when I finally got home.

I feel kind of bad for making her worry, even though I’m still upset with her.

She was crying, and literally about to call the police because Ozai hadn’t bothered updating her on how our terrible reunion went. What a dick. He obviously had the time to try and seek ME out, from the number of missed calls on my phone (it was obviously him, because who else had my number and had pockets deep enough to use their normal extension abroad?). 

Spirits, I _HATE_ him.

Oh great, Mom’s calling for me again—

**Thursday, My Room, 1:40 AM**

Despite how I’ve been LIED to for the entirety of my life, somehow I’M the one getting punished.

Mom’s placing me on house arrest. For a whole WEEK. I’m only being allowed out on Friday to see Piandao.

She won’t even let me go to school. She said she passed a note to Aang to take to Roku, telling him that I was sick with the flu. 

Good to know lying runs in the family. Growing up around people who couldn’t tell simple truths... A family of deceivers, built upon lies.

No WONDER I turned out so fucked up. 

I'm going to crash now. Took just half a sleeping pill, as Dr Piandao had instructed. He did say it was for emergencies only, and I'm sure this counts as one. 

Hopefully, things will be better tomorrow... but with my luck, probably not. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ozai makes another appearance and Zuko flips his shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the struggle of writing in first POV continues. I might rewrite this in second POV tbh because this is SO exhausting, but let’s see where this goes first.

**Thursday, My Room, 11:20 AM**

I’ve locked myself in here, even though I’m starving. And I really have to go. You know. _Pee_.

Mom’s given up yelling through the door. She wants to ‘have a talk’, but I don’t think I can handle that right now. 

“You’re being dramatic, sweetie,” she says. “We can work through this. Open the door, please?”

DRAMATIC? I think this, of all the shitty things in my life, warrants a LITTLE overreaction. What, did she expect me to be all ‘oh, FATHER needs me? The same guy who treated us both like complete rat viper shit? Sure thing!’

(She’s gone completely bonkers. Ozai’s in her head again, I just know it.)

I wonder if I can slip out through the window. I’m pretty good at climbing things, and I’ve definitely got SOME money saved up. Maybe I could go on a long road trip, to The Earth Kingdom. Ba Sing Se perhaps? They’d never find me there. The place is full of refugees from the more war-torn areas. 

I could start a brand new life, as a tea server or something equally dumb. Probably live in the lower ring, where dreams go to die. Even though I HATE crowds, and the buildings are extremely claustrophobic. I’d belong there. A misfit, amongst other misfits. 

Anything to get away from here…

**Thursday, Mt. Oraya Hospital, Ward 103, 1:30 PM**

WELL GUESS WHO SHOWED UP.

(It was so bad I had a panic attack and collapsed.)

I’m currently being held in one of the fancy private wards. There’s a basket of fruit and cheeses on the little table by the window. I’m pretty sure I know who it’s from. As soon as I’m allowed to stand, I’m chucking it straight into the trash.

Not even the apartment’s safe anymore.

**TWO HOURS AGO**

“Zuko, there’s someone here to see you,” my mom says through the wood. She sounds close to breaking something. Or someone. (Like the time our landlord thought it would be a good idea to put the moves on her.)

I got curious, of course, even if she sounded pissed. Because who would possibly come to see me? Maybe it was Aang, here to check on me and my ‘flu’? Anyone that hasn’t been lying to me for the past ten years was going to be an extremely welcome distraction, so I’d leapt out of bed and swung the door open only to find—

Ozai. _In our living room._

In another one of his stupidly expensive fancy-brand suits.

It was strange, seeing him sitting there on the ottoman. Like watching a komodo rhino flying through the sky. He sat perfectly still, back ramrod straight, eyes (so much like my own) staring directly at me.

“Hello, Zuko,” he drawls, looking perfectly unruffled and poised like yesterday’s disaster didn’t happen. “Did you sleep well?”

I was SO close to punching him in the face.

“What are you doing here,” I ask, avoiding his gaze. I stay by the doorframe, ready to step back and slam it shut again if necessary. “I have nothing more to say to you.”

Ozai rolls his eyes and turns to Ursa, my mother, who is as white as a sheet.

“Perhaps _you_ should tell him? About our little... arrangement.”

“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” she muttered. “Just tell him what he needs to know and get OUT.”

“Hm. Well then,” Ozai doesn’t even bother looking at my mom, and instead, he stands up, towering over the both of us. He starts walking directly towards me. Then looks down at me, both literally and I’m sure metaphorically, and places a hand on my shoulder.

(I felt so repulsed by his touch.)

“Since you left so suddenly yesterday, I never got to finish what we started,” and I snorted because what does he mean? WE? “There’s something else you need to know, whether you like it or not.”

He takes a deep breath, poised, confident and commanding. 

“You’re coming home, Zuko. To Caldera. To your _real_ family,” he offers a smile. Whether or not it was fake, I couldn’t tell. “Coming to stay here in Republic City was always going to be temporary. When we separated, your mother decided she wanted to at least give you the chance to experience… normal life. Cold of her, wasn’t it? She barely spared a thought for Azula. Your poor sister, she chose to heartlessly leave behind.”

He continues, after pausing to throw her a scathing glare. She glares right back.

“Ursa stubbornly refused to leave without you, even if her marrying me meant she’d already revoked all custodial rights. Your Grandfather wanted to have her arrested and thrown in jail, but I wouldn’t have that, of course. The shame it would have brought upon our family name if it had been made public... so, we compromised.”

The memories kind of go blurry after that, as my vision did, but I’ll do my best to describe them as vividly as I can.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Mom turns to look at me, her eyes filled to the brim with tears. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I never thought it would have happened this way—”

“Don’t interrupt me, _Ursa_ ,” he spits her name like it’s a swear. “You knew just as well as I did that this would happen. Iroh has never wanted the throne. He’s been nothing but a whimsical, idealistic fool, ever since what happened to Lu Ten.”

“What happened to Lu Ten?” I manage to ask, even if my chest gets way tighter than it should be. Images of a smiling, older boy with scabby knees and gaps in his teeth tug at my memory. We used to be close. I’d missed him and Uncle Iroh when we moved away.

“He was shot. Assassins,” Ozai shrugs like it’s nothing. Then he notices the look on my face and swiftly amends his statement. “Don’t look like that, son. He’s very much alive. Barely escaped the jaws of death at the hands of those… _savages_.”

“Ozai, this is NOT the time,” Mom walks over to me and envelops me in a hug. I think I was shaking again. “Zuko. Honey? Breathe, okay? That’s right, deep breaths.”

She tries to edge Ozai away from me, but he refuses to budge.

“For god’s sake, boy,” he snarls, tightening his grip on my shoulder. “Get a grip! You can’t be falling apart EVERY time we speak!”

“Why do you think he’s even like this!” Mom screams.

“Because YOU raised him this way,” Ozai replies easily.

They start arguing, screaming at each other at the top of their lungs. My vision’s blacking out. I don’t think they noticed at first, considering the way they were going at each other’s throats. My brain was struggling to process everything that’s just been said.

Lu Ten, my cousin, that I remembered as a goofy preteen always getting into trouble with the nannies, had nearly been MURDERED by ASSASSINS? What was this, some kind of twisted thriller flick? Was this what my life was going to be like from now on? 

It dawns on me that my uncle, warm, kind and funny, the always-smiling Iroh who loved our dysfunctional family so openly, had nearly lost his son, over this… this royalty nonsense.

That’s when I lose all control.

I sway on my feet, breaking out into cold sweat and my vision goes dark. Ozai and Ursa’s angry, hate-filled words become muted buzzing in the background. I fall clumsily onto the floor, knocking something porcelain over (there was a loud crash) and the last thing I remember before waking up here is Mom, leaning over me, screaming desperately for me to stay awake, and Ozai barking something into his phone.

So yeah, here I am, stuck in this excessively large ward with nothing but my journal and a pen for company. Dr Piandao told her it was good to give me at least one object of comfort while I’m holed up here and she chose this.

But I still don’t have my phone. I’ll have to remember to ask her for it later when she comes back. I think she went to get coffee. Here’s to hoping she gets a cup for me too.

**Later, Ward 103, 1:40 PM**

No coffee for me. Doctor’s orders. This sucks.

**Thursday, Mom’s Car, 3:33 PM**

I’ve been discharged but I feel even worse than before. The doctor refused to give me any painkillers because he says, ‘you’re not actually in any physical pain’, whatever that means. Stupid old coot. At least they’d make me drowsy, so I can SLEEP.

Because I am so, so very tired.

Aang showed up at the hospital earlier, with KATARA (her name’s NOT Kanaya, apparently). You know, Sokka’s sister, the one in freshmen year? She looks a lot like him now that I’ve seen her up close. Same flawless complexion, and deep blue eyes. 

She’s part of the new clique Aang’s always hanging out with nowadays, ever since he started high school. The group with the scary blind girl, volleyball captain Suki and of course, her goofy, annoying brother, Sokka. It’s funny how his name rhymes with ‘soccer’ now that I think about it (that’s the club he’s in).

I was lying down, waiting for 3pm to roll around so the doctor could come and do one final examination before discharging me. Then Aang comes bursting into my ward out of nowhere, looking panicked.

(His eyes were really red like he’s been crying.)

I don’t exactly feel like rehashing our entire conversation—because it was strained and awkward since I didn’t exactly know how (or want) to explain WHY I ended up in the hospital.

Also, why did Mom tell him where I was? Aang told me he’d found our door unlocked and started calling my Mom non-stop to ask her what happened. She told him I was in the hospital, but I guess she thought I’d want to explain the situation myself. Which I don’t.

Look. I’m glad Aang cares. But I don’t really understand why? We’re childhood friends, yeah. But it’s high school now and he’s got so many other friends who are way more deserving of his kindness than _me_. I knew we were going to drift apart one day, but I never expected it to be because of THIS.

I mean I’ve always been stiff and awkward around people. I can barely hold a conversation unrelated to schoolwork for more than twenty seconds. Socialising is a struggle.

So yeah, I clammed up and refused to tell him what happened, and we got into this HUGE fight. In Aang’s case, that means he calmly started telling me why he was worried and how the truth is important for closure.

But for me, it means yelling my head off and attacking him verbally. It basically ended with me snapping at him to shut up and leave me alone.

He left right after that.

Katara stuck around to give me a piece of her mind.

“You’re a terrible person, you know that?” Yeah. I know. But I don’t say anything because she looks ready to throttle me. “He started _crying_ when he heard you were sent to the hospital. You should have seen his face!”

Immediately, I felt like shit. More than I usually did. And that’s saying something.

“You don’t deserve his friendship,” she says with finality. 

I just started back at her, frozen, until she huffed angrily and left. What could I have said to that? She was just telling the truth. And she probably went to find and comfort Aang, which honestly, is something I’ve never been any good at.

Why do I have to ruin EVERYTHING I care about? I hate myself. Maybe if I’m lucky, tomorrow I won’t wake up. 


End file.
